Black List

by Will Jordan

  The woman stood beside him in brooding silence for a time. It was hard to tell if she was angry or conflicted by his persistent questioning, yet she made no move to leave. And he began to wonder if he’d been wrong.

  Perhaps she did want to tell him after all. Perhaps this had been festering away inside her for longer than she cared to admit.

  ‘Marcus was… my mentor.’ She said that word with some reluctance, as if acknowledging an unpleasant truth. ‘He brought me into the Agency, guided me through the world he lived in, even helped me understand the men who ran it. He made me believe that I could be like them one day – we both could. We could make the decisions that truly mattered, change the world for the better. One day.’ She cocked her head and frowned, as if intrigued by the memory. ‘But we had to fight for it. Marcus made me fight. Not against the men, but against myself. Against the fear, the smallness, the weakness. Against everything that could hold me back. Until eventually I became what he wanted me to be… for a while.’

  It was hard to describe the change that had come over her as she spoke. It was as if the layers of armour that she had built up around herself had begun to fall away. The hardness, the coldness, the hostility were being discarded little by little with each word, revealing a glimpse of the soul that lurked behind them.

  ‘What went wrong?’

  He heard a sigh then. The weary sigh of someone replaying old mistakes.

  ‘I wish I knew,’ she said, and never had he been more certain that she meant it.

  Coming from someone who always seemed to have the answers, who always had a plan or a way out of any situation, such an admission of fallibility was nothing less than shocking to him.

  ‘So now you’re on the run from him. Cain?’

  A faint, sad smile. ‘From Cain. From the Agency. From the Circle. From everything.’

  ‘This is my life now as well, isn’t it?’ he asked in a moment of frank honesty. ‘Even if we get the Black List and you find the answers you’re looking for, it’ll never be over. I’m going to be hunted for the rest of my days.’

  Anya said nothing to this. There was no need.

  ‘How do you live like this?’

  How long could one exist on that knife-edge between life and death, waking up each day not knowing if you were going to see the next? Alex knew she had already survived far longer than he ever could.

  She thought about it for a moment. ‘Day by day. I suppose it has always been that way for me.’

  ‘Didn’t you ever have a… normal life?’

  He didn’t mean it as an insult, and he hoped she understood that. He was merely seeking, whether he knew it or not, some kind of common ground on which to base his understanding of this woman.

  ‘What is normal?’ She turned to look at him, her eyes betraying deep sadness and regret. And he could guess why – because she really didn’t know the answer.

  ‘No CIA, no running, no hiding. Even you must have had that once.’

  She thought about that, as if genuinely trying to remember a life without all of this.

  ‘I don’t often think about before,’ she admitted with some reluctance.

  He frowned, struck by her odd choice of words. ‘Before what?’

  He saw a flicker in her eyes then, a moment of hesitation, as if she’d just said something she hadn’t intended to.

  ‘You were right about me, Alex. I had a life once, a family, even a future. And I was very different from… what you see now. Quiet, gentle, a daydreamer. But it all changed. Everything I thought was so safe and permanent was taken away from me, and I knew I couldn’t be that person any more if I wanted to survive. I had to be someone else. Someone without fear or weakness or regret. Like… an actor playing a role. And I’ve played that role, been that person, for so long now, I don’t… know how to be anyone else. But I see it sometimes in my dreams. Always the same dream.’

  ‘What do you see?’

  The woman shrugged, reached up and moved a lock of blonde hair away from her face. It was an instinctive gesture he’d started to notice when she was stalling for time. He made no move to press her, knowing she would either speak or remain silent as she alone decided.

  ‘It’s evening, the sun is just touching the horizon. I’m lying in the long grass near my home, staring up the sky. A perfect sky. One that...seems to flow from day into night, from horizon to horizon. You know this?’

  Alex nodded. He had seen evenings like that, and even recalled the strange sense of longing and wistfulness they could provoke in him.

  ‘I breathe in, and I can smell earth and pine needles and wild flowers. I feel safe, content – the way you only can when you’re a child. And it feels good.’

  She smiled a faint, bittersweet smile, and once more he was offered a glimpse of the person beneath the armour. The woman who still grieved for a life of mistakes and failures far greater than he could understand.

  ‘And then when I look up, I see the contrail of an aircraft cutting across the sky. I watch the sun glinting off it, the endless blue of the sky beyond, and… I smile. And I know, somehow I understand then, that it will be the last thing I ever see.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Alex asked, his voice hushed.

  She blinked, dismissing the memory. ‘It’s a dream, nothing more. The little girl who saw and felt those things… she is gone now.’

  Alex looked at her, struck by the sadness and longing in her tone. It was as if she was mourning someone who had passed away.

  ‘No she isn’t,’ he said, not sure whether it was appropriate to challenge her on something like this or not. All he knew was that it was what he wanted to say. ‘She’s standing here next to me. She’s just… waiting for a chance to get out.’

  Anya met his gaze only for a moment.

  ‘Try to get some rest,’ she said, moving away from the window. ‘We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.’

  Alex watched in silence as she quietly retreated from the room.

  Chapter 35

  I didn’t know what to think as I watched her leave. She’d told me more about herself in those five minutes than she had in the past five days, and yet I felt like I had more questions than ever before. It was as if I had the pieces of a jigsaw, but no idea how they fitted together.

  Who was she really, beneath all the armour she’d built up around herself? Why did the CIA, the Circle, even this Marcus Cain, really want her dead? What was driving her to risk everything for the Black List, and what would happen to me when she got her hands on it?

  I was caught up in something I couldn’t begin to understand, something much bigger than me, and maybe even her. Something that could easily end lives, including my own.

  And yet, for the first time in my entire life, I actually felt like I was doing something meaningful. I doubted they’d write songs about me or enter my name in the history books, but maybe, just maybe, I’d live through this and know I’d been able to help someone.

  That was the plan, at least.

  *

  Alex awoke to the smell of coffee and cooking food. Intrigued, and very much aware that he hadn’t eaten a proper meal in some time, he slipped out of bed, pulled on his jeans and t-shirt and padded through to the living area.

  Anya was there already. And so, it seemed, was breakfast.

  ‘You are having a laugh,’ he said, eyeing up the plates of scrambled eggs, toast and bacon laid out on the dining table as only a starving man could. After going to bed on an empty stomach, he’d scarcely beheld a more welcome sight. ‘Where the hell did all this stuff come from?’

  Anya shrugged as she poured herself a cup of coffee. ‘There is a convenience store not far from here. They open early.’

  He frowned, remembering Halvorsen’s words of caution last night. ‘I thought Kristian said not to go outside?’

  ‘I have spent enough of my life being hungry,’ she said. Had such a statement come from another person he might have dismissed it, but the look in her eyes told another stor
y. ‘Anyway, we have a lot of work ahead of us today, so sit and eat.’

  He wasn’t about to argue with that. Taking a seat at the table, he picked up his cutlery and took his first bite. Straight away his face contorted in a grimace. ‘Jeez, the bacon’s a bit underdone.’

  Anya’s eyes shot up from her plate, and he grinned in amusement.

  ‘Just kidding. Don’t shoot me.’

  Again he saw that faint half-smile he’d come to associate with moments like this. ‘No promises.’

  Unsure whether she was serious or not, he attacked his breakfast with the kind of focussed determination that only comes with prolonged hunger. Not only had he barely eaten over the past few days, but he’d expended great amounts of energy at various times in evading their pursuers, trekking through rough woodland or swimming against fast-flowing river currents. Being a wanted man was apparently enough to work up quite an appetite.

  If he made it out of this alive, maybe he could market it as the next fad diet.

  Only when he’d destroyed most of his plate did he turn his attention back to the woman sitting opposite. ‘So what’s our plan?’

  ‘We wait for Kristian to return,’ Anya decided. ‘If there is no word from him by midday, we leave and take our chances.’

  ‘Sounds… less than promising. You think he’ll live up to our deal?’

  Anya took a sip of her coffee. ‘I’ve known him a long time. He would not let us down on purpose.’

  That didn’t exactly inspire confidence. Just because he didn’t consciously betray them didn’t mean the man couldn’t fuck things up. Then again, as with so much that had happened over the past few days, the matter was beyond his control.

  Finishing her food, Anya rose from the chair and carried her plate into the kitchen. She was wearing only jeans and a plain white tank top, leaving her neck and shoulders exposed as she turned away. Her injured arm was plainly visible, the wound now bound up with a clean and properly applied dressing.

  But there was something else that caught Alex’s attention; something marring the tanned and otherwise unblemished skin across her upper back. Straight and silvery-white, it looked to him like old scar tissue. Several such lines appeared to crisscross each other, as if she’d been deeply cut or scratched somehow.

  ‘What happened there?’ he asked before he could stop himself.

  ‘What do you mean?’ She was busy running the dishes under hot water.

  ‘Those scars on your back.’

  Just like that, she stopped what she was doing and turned to face him, as if to hide what she hadn’t realized she had revealed. The expression on her face was quite different from the look of cool composure he’d become accustomed to. Instead she looked almost embarrassed, as if he’d just seen her stepping out of a shower.

  But there was something else there too. Something deeper and stronger than mere embarrassment. Pain, old pain, as a long-buried memory was dragged to the surface once more.

  ‘It was a long time ago. I made a mistake.’

  ‘What sort of mistake?’

  ‘I trusted the wrong people. And I paid for it.’

  Alex was about to speak again, fascinated by what he was hearing, but the click of a key in the front door told him someone was about to enter. He saw Anya unobtrusively reach for one of the knives in a chopping block next to sink as the front door swung open to reveal Halvorsen.

  He had clearly been busy since their last meeting. If possible, he looked even more tired and haggard than Alex. Dumping a pair of canvas holdalls that he’d been carrying, he surveyed the apartment’s two occupants.

  ‘The arrangements have been made,’ he announced. ‘I had to call in a few favours to make this happen at short notice, but I have new passports for you both.’

  He tossed one to Alex, who barely managed to catch it after setting down his cup of coffee. Opening it up, he studied the photograph ID page for several seconds. Apparently his new name was James Williams, and he was now a Canadian citizen. It looked legitimate enough, though he wondered if immigration officials would be so easily fooled.

  ‘Really?’ Alex asked, slipping the passport into his back pocket. ‘Do I sound Canadian to you?’

  ‘Right now you look and sound like shit to me.’ Placing his foot behind one of the holdalls, Halvorsen shoved it across the floor to Alex. ‘I had to guess your size, but there are clean clothes and washing kit in there. I suggest you use both.’

  Unconsciously Alex reached up and scratched at the stubble that coated his jaw. It had been a couple of days since his last shave; a fact he was becoming increasingly aware of. ‘Nice of you to notice.’

  Kneeling down, he unzipped the bag and was surprised to find a folded, neatly pressed business suit inside. He was far from an expert in men’s fashion, but even he could tell that it was high-quality and expensive.

  ‘The three of us work for an engineering consultancy firm,’ the Norwegian explained. ‘We are in Istanbul to advise on stabilizing the foundations of a mosque that is being restored. You two are my personal assistants. I have made sure you pass through Norwegian border controls without being detained, but the cover story will be needed once we arrive in Turkey.’

  Anya hadn’t missed the intent behind his brief summary of their roles. ‘I did not agree to you being part of this.’

  ‘You said you needed my help,’ he reminded her. ‘Well, here I am.’

  ‘I needed information and resources, not a hired gun. You haven’t been a field operative in a long time.’

  ‘Neither have you.’

  ‘That’s different. I’m still trained for it. But you are . . .’ She trailed off, unwilling to finish that line of thought.

  ‘Old and fat?’ He smiled, perhaps amused that he might have succeeded in embarrassing her. ‘Anya, I’m not talking about infiltrating that building with you. But a job like this can’t be done with just two people, only one of whom is a trained operative. You will need my help in Istanbul, whether you’re ready to admit it or not.’

  Anya eyed him hard. Alex could guess she didn’t like being strong-armed into anything. Still, even she couldn’t deny the merits of what he was saying.

  ‘Fine,’ she conceded with sour grace, kneeling down to open up her own holdall. ‘Just remember that this is my operation.’

  ‘As if I could forget.’

  Seeking to dispel the tension, Alex interjected with a question of his own. ‘Not to sound like a naysayer, but how exactly are we supposed to get out of Norway?’

  The Norwegian smiled. ‘You will see.’

  Part Four – Completion

  Rafael Nuñez aka RaFa, a notorious member of the hacking group World of Hell, is arrested following his arrival at Miami International Airport for breaking into the Defense Information Systems Agency computer system on June 2001.

  Chapter 36

  Istanbul, Turkey

  Six hours later, Alex braced himself as the Gulfstream III executive jet touched down with barely a bump on the tarmac at Istanbul Atatürk Airport, the engines roaring with increased power as the pilot applied reverse thrust. Outside, the hot afternoon sun beat down from an almost cloudless sky.

  The past several hours had passed like a hectic, stressful dream. After quickly washing and donning their new clothes, he and Anya had departed the safe house in a car with blacked-out windows, heading out of Oslo. Rather than make for Oslo Gardermoen Airport, the main commercial hub serving the city, they had travelled further east to a smaller, private airfield at Fornebu.

  And there, parked in a private hangar some distance away from the Cessnas and other light aircraft that populated the small field, the Gulfstream had been waiting for them. There had been no passport or identity checks, no searches by immigration officials, not even a glance from the lone security officer manning the main gate. They had simply exited the car and walked right onto the plane, the engines already starting to power up, and five minutes later they’d been airborne.

  ‘Not a bad old jo
b you’ve got here, mate,’ he’d remarked to Halvorsen at the time, awed and a little envious that the man had been able to summon up private jets and fake identities seemingly at the drop of a hat.

  Halvorsen had made a face at this remark, guessing his meaning. ‘Believe me, there will be a lot of explaining to do when my superiors learn of this. Hopefully I can show them something in return for this “investment”.’

  Alex had never even been inside a private jet before, never mind flown in one, but after passing away several hours in this one, he was quite convinced that commercial air travel was no longer for him. The seats alone probably cost more than he made in a year, and as much as he would have liked to sample the champagne in the onboard drinks bar, he knew he couldn’t afford to indulge with so much work ahead of them. Anyway, Anya would likely have kicked his arse from one end of the plane to the other if he’d tried it.

  The woman herself had spent most of the flight immersed in the laptop computer she’d set up on the small folding table in front of her, poring over the information that Halvorsen had been able to supply. The Norwegian intelligence officer had come through for them in more ways than one, providing design blueprints, personnel lists and even satellite images for the target building yielded up by Alex’s IP trace. He assumed that, armed with this information, she’d been busy formulating some kind of plan for getting them in and out without being arrested or killed.

  That had been Anya’s homework for the flight, and she had taken it as seriously as a heart attack. The only time he’d even seen her leave the computer had been to get a glass of water. It was just as well, because in a few short hours they would be putting everything she’d learned to the test, and this was one test that didn’t permit second chances.

  Turning off the main runway, the Gulfstream taxied for a couple of minutes before turning into a smaller arrivals area set aside from the main terminal.